You Call That A Vacation?
by TinaBanina96
Summary: Request fill for the Hetalia Easter Fan Event 2012. Not that damn island again...Stupid America, leaving him here, alone with France. Stupid Russia and stupid China for somehow getting themselves lost. Stupid France for being... France.


**Title: **You Call That A Vacation? (Written for the Hetalia Easter Fan Event 2012)**  
Request:** "Seychelles hitting England and France with a large fish in a fit of anger. LOL the funnier the better. Thank you for your time. ^_^"**  
****Author: **TinaBanina96

* * *

**You Call That A Vacation?**

"I say, this is absolutely, positively one hundred percent your fault!"

"My fault? Mon cher, you must be joking! It wasn't my idea to go on this trip anyway. Blame America!"

"Dudes, relax! We're on a tropical isla-"

"It's that same bloody island we're always on!"

"But this island rocks! Look at it… sand… sea…sun…Huh."

"Problem, America?"

"Where'd Russia go? It's weird not having his huge lurking tallness lurking hugely over us."

"Speaking of that… China appears to have disappeared as well…"

"For once France, you and America are correct. I'm sure they are fi-"

"Holy freaking Roosevelt! What if they've been kidnapped by the Axis and are being tortured to give away all of our Allied secrets? I, the hero, should go save them!"

"America! Come back you git!"

"Oh let the boy go England! Let's just enjoy the island togeth-"

"Shut it, Frog-face!"

"Your words! How they wound me!"

England scowled as France gasped dramatically, clutching at his chest with one hand and pulling at his hair with the other.

Stupid America, leaving him here, alone with France. Stupid Russia and stupid China for somehow getting themselves lost (or something like that). Stupid France for being such a stupid frog.

Ugh. England could feel sweat dripping down his face. Why was it so bloody sunny on these tropical islands? What had America called it?

"_Let's just take a vacation! Like, to a paradise island or something. We'll call it… the Awesomely Official Allies American Vacation!"_

And so, with those words, the five (wait… wasn't there meant to be six?) Allies set off to have the 'Awesomely Official Allies American Not At All Stupidly Named Vacation'.

Rather begrudgingly, if he did say so himself.

"England! You are looking rather hot there! Come let me help you cool off~"

The Frenchman practically purred as he draped an arm over the Englishman's shoulders. England scowled harder.

"Hands to yourself, you wanker. I'm perfectly fine." he practically spat at France (who had, in the space of around 20 seconds, managed to remove about 75% percent of his clothing), shrugging the arm off violently. "We should go find some shade… or something."

"If you insist, mon cher! I assure you though…" France grinned, flicking the blond hair off his completely dry (where was the sweat? WHERE WAS IT?) face, "… it is much cooler dressed like me. All you need to do is take off that ridiculous woolen jacket!"

"Taking clothes off around _you _is never a good idea." huffed England, pulling the heavy jacket tighter around him. "I'd rather die of heatstroke."

France laughed.

"Great Scott… is that a house?"

France rolled his eyes at the Englishman, whose face was red with heat and embarrassment. The two had been walking for a few argument-filled minutes, and it was obvious to France that England was absolutely boiling. Coming upon the house, England actually gasped little, green eyes lighting up.

"No, mon cher, it is clearly a mirage."

Laughing, France picked up his pace a little and skipped just ahead of England.

"Of course it's a house! Oh dear, I forgot again! Ma petite Seychelles lives here!"

"…Well of bloody course she does."

England felt like hitting himself. _Seychelles. _They always managed to get themselves stranded here, no matter where they had meant to go in the first place. How he had forgotten this, he didn't know.

Reaching the house, France made straight for the door and opened it with a flourish. England grumbled something about 'rude cheese-headed buggers' under his breath and followed him in, carefully closing the door behind him.

The inside of the house was spacious and shaded. England found himself cooling down quickly, and his own mood brightening.

That was until he heard the high pitched shriek and found himself running down to where the noise had come from.

"Non non non non!" exclaimed what he presumed was France's voice from inside what appeared to be the kitchen. "Ce n'est pas la bonne facon d'écailler un poisson!"

Wait… what? England shook his head, trying to remember his years old knowledge of French. Something about a fish?

"Comment as-tu pu entrer ici?" replied the other voice in what sounded like an exasperated tone. "Aucune importance! Qu'est-ce que tu fais?"

"The door was open." said England simply as he stepped into the kitchen, hoping that Seychelles had in fact said what he thought she had said. "Leave the poor girl alone France. What are you doing?"

"Moi?" France replied, eyes widening. He pointed at the kitchen countertop, which had a variety of cooking utensils laid out, alongside a large fish on a cutting board. "I was merely correcting Seychelles on her fish preparation."

"He was the one that screamed, not me." said Seychelles with a pout, hands on her hips and glaring at France. "Hello England… what are you and-"

-A pointed glance at France-

"_him _doing here? I was right in the middle of making dinner."

"You mean right in the middle of making the biggest mistake one could make with a fish!"

"The fish is fine! You're just being nitpicky!"

"It looks perfectly alright to me."

"Of course it, you nation with a miserable excuse for cuisine!"

"Hey! English food is delicious!"

"If by delicious, you mean I would not feed it to my dog-"

"Any dog of yours would be lucky to- hey!"

"Oh shut up! Seriously, why are you guys here? In my kitchen? Better yet, why are you in my country?"

"Oh ma cheri Seychelles, England here was overheating dreadfully in that ihideous/i-"

"It is not hideous! Well you see Seychelles, we were on 'vacation', otherwise known as some stupid trip America made us go on."

"Why here of all places?"

"Because we always seem to end up here."

"I blame your terrible map reading skills."

"Bastard! I didn't even navigate this time. You did!"

"But who provided me with the map? You did!"

"Maybe you two shou-"

"That doesn't make any sense!"

"Your eyebrows don't make any sense!"

"What is that even supposed to mean?"

"England? France? Mayb-"

"It means your face put me off map reading!"

"That is not how faces work! Ugh, you're such a stupid wine-guzzling idiot!"

"At least I'm not a scone-burning hallucinating freak!"

"Could you guys please sort th-"

"My friends are perfectly real! Flying mint bunny, tell him you're real!"

"Hilarious! Talking to the fairies again England!"

"Ok that is it!"

The exact moment France and England stopped arguing and shut up, for once, happened to be the exact moment they both felt something cold, slimy and wet hit them soundly across their faces.

"Laissez-moi tranquille! Leave me alone!" shouted Seychelles, wielding her weapon with an aura that Hungary would have been proud of.

Suffice to say, the two bickering Nations left quickly, all thoughts of sitting in the shade forgotten.

* * *

They were found two hours later, sitting under a tree, steadfastly ignoring each other.

"What is that smell, aru? It's horrible!"

"I'm quite glad China and myself decided to go on a walk instead of hanging out here with you two…"

"Dudes… why so fishy?"

"Shut up, all of you!"

"I still blame you frog."


End file.
